Although the Iron Armor Spell that Harry hastily cast wasn't particularly strong, it still managed to astonish the audience.
To cast such a complex, well-formed spell so swiftly and deftly—many employees at the Ministry of Magic can't do that!
The crowd began to chatter among themselves, with some looking visibly ashamed.
The head of the Auror Office, Scrimgeour, turned to ask:
"Has Harry Potter ever considered a career as an Auror after he graduates?"
Professor McGonagall, having already sent all the teams in, returned to the stands to watch the students' performance.
She was taken aback by the question, then replied, "Harry isn't at the age to consider such matters yet... although he might become a Seeker for the national team—Harry has an extraordinary talent in that area, too."
Someone nearby chuckled, "Like father, like son—I remember James was an excellent flyer too."
"Indeed," another former classmate said nostalgically, "He was Gryffindor's Chaser, but could easily catch the Golden Snitch too."
Unfazed by the conversation around him, Scrimgeour continued to look at Professor McGonagall and said earnestly, "If he aims to be an Auror, even if some of his grades fall short, I'd be willing to admit him exceptionally. Please convey to him—he has great potential, and I'd love to see him join the ranks of the elite wizards."
Professor McGonagall was slightly surprised; after all, Harry was only in his second year, and the Aurors have always only admitted the best wizards.
In fact, because the standards of Hogwarts students have declined in recent years, fewer and fewer graduates have been recruited as Aurors; only one was accepted last year.
Thinking of Harry's nature, Professor McGonagall nodded slightly, saying, "I'll let him know... but what he wants to do in the future is up to Harry to decide."
Scrimgeour replied in a deep voice, "Of course."
As they spoke, they didn't overlook the images in the Flow Mirror.
In the original storyline, Harry faced challenges and crises by relying threefold on luck, threefold on talent, threefold on friends and mentors, with the remaining fraction supported by the author's favor, stumbling through.
Yet at this moment, he was proficiently using various magic, advancing bravely when needed, retreating decisively when necessary, cooperating seamlessly with his friends, and even protecting classmates from time to time.
Even when compared to several other well-performing, nearly adult teams, this second-year group didn't fall far behind.
One could say Harry perfectly embodied what everyone expected of a "young savior," even surpassing their expectations.
An elderly wizard clutched Dumbledore's hand, nearly moved to tears.
"Albus, I once begged you... to let me adopt that poor child, I promised to love him as my own son, but you refused..."
"Later, when I heard you sent him to his Muggle relatives, I thought you'd finally lost your mind… Because I attended James and Lily's wedding, I knew what kind of people they were, and so I said some harsh things to you..."
"I owe you an apology—I'm sorry, Albus… You were right… You raised this child to be exceptional..."
"I'm truly sorry for calling you a syrup-brained cockroach, a hopelessly foolish jackass..."
Even one as strong-hearted as Dumbledore felt a tinge of awkwardness at that moment.
Professor McGonagall next to him kept her expression tight, as if she hadn't heard the old wizard at all.
But Dumbledore's vision hadn't diminished with age; he was sure his deputy headmistress was quietly chuckling inside.
Dumbledore gently held the old wizard's arm and said helplessly:
"I really haven't done much… Even I'm surprised by how outstanding Harry has become."
Which was the truth, but no one around believed it.
The old wizard automatically filtered out Dumbledore's words, continuing to murmur, "I should've known you'd have a long-term plan for him… If I had taken him home, I would've spoiled him for sure, truly ruining the child..."
Dumbledore tried to shift the topic, "In fact, the other children are quite excellent, too. Look, most of them can cast the Iron Armor Spell..."
Old Wizard: "If Lily could see Harry now, she would be so happy! You don't know, she gave me a radio once, which I've kept until now. But since she was killed, I've never had the heart to turn it on..."
The words brought a moment of silence among the surrounding people, with some emotional wizards getting slightly misty-eyed.
Only Fudge, sitting at the front as if forced into invisibility, wore an unhappy expression.
He felt he wasn't receiving the respect he deserved.
More importantly, he noticed, by careful observation, the performances of young wizards besides the savior.
Proficient use of Iron Armor Spell, the Stunning Spell, Petrification Spell, Disarming Spell…
Fudge himself has children who have already graduated from school, placed in the Ministry of Magic through his own arrangement.
Though Fudge himself was of limited ability, he sincerely believed his children were quite incompetent, fearing they'd even mess up writing down visitor names in a registry.
But these kids before him...
Their performances seemed to confirm those rumors—
Dumbledore was training a powerful army at the school, preparing to seize the Magic World's power, to overthrow the current Minister—Fudge himself.
Fudge felt panic rising, like being forced to the edge of a cliff by a dragon, unsure why the creature hadn't yet pushed him over.
He hesitated, several times wanting to speak, but couldn't bring himself to press Dumbledore with the Ministry of Magic's authority like before.
Just speaking normally to him made Fudge feel pressured.
Fudge stared at the expansive, seemingly endless maze before him as if confronting some monstrous beast.
—Maybe we should issue a new educational mandate, prohibiting Hogwarts from holding similar games or competitions.
—Or perhaps collaborate with Malfoy and others, using the power of the school governors to drive Dumbledore out of the school.
Fudge imagined himself ruling the school as Dumbledore retreated like a defeated dog...
Then he dejectedly realized, if Dumbledore truly intended to seize power, his commands might never leave the Ministry before the headmaster would confront him.
—It might be better to gain some capital while still in office...
Suddenly, Fudge recalled the suggestion made by the Minister of Magic of France at the previous Wizard Federation meeting.
To restart the Triwizard Tournament.
Now it seemed, that was indeed a fine idea...
Viewing the young, talented wizards in the Flow Mirror with newfound eyes, Fudge gradually broke into a smile.